For I Have None I Fear
by sofia313
Summary: She was his father's ward, a girl who he wasn't allowed to touch. He however was never very good at following orders.
1. Chapter 1

**One shot for now.**

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Ramsay Snow looked at the mutilated body of a young man and smiled. The sight pleased him very much. He hummed cheerfully while cleaning the blade of his knife. Torturing people gave him pleasure, but in this case he had enjoyed himself much more than usually. This man had deserved to be severely punished. Ramsay had caught him peeking at Briseis when she had been taking a bath. Big mistake.

He was the only one allowed to look at her naked body and he had done so ever since her body had started to become the body of a woman. She had been a tiny runt when he had seen her for the first time and in a way they had grown up together. She had lived in the Dreadfort almost her whole life, under the protection of Roose Bolton.

Ramsay's father had made it clear to him right away that he needed to keep his distance; the girl was after all from a noble family. Of course that had made Ramsay want to do just the opposite. Bullying the girl would have been more than easy, she had been blind since birth, but for some reason things had turned out quite differently. There had been something about her that had caught his interest.

She wasn't like anyone he had met; she lived in her very own world. To her he was just like everyone else; she had never shown any kind of fear toward him. That was probably because she couldn't see him. Right now he had blood all over his hands and tunic. He was still humming as he walked out of his own little "playroom" and away from the dungeons.

It was dinnertime and he was already late. He passed a servant who quickly bowed his head, being very careful not to look at him. All the servants feared him, as they should. He didn't wash up or change his clothes before heading to the dining room; that would have spoiled his fun. Briseis was already sitting at the table, eating her dinner.

"Good evening," Ramsay greeted her. "I apologize for being late."

"That's alright," she replied. "How was your hunt?"

"Very successful."

"That's nice."

He sat beside her and briefly touched her soft dark brown curls with his bloody hand. He would have wanted to touch her cheek as well, but he couldn't do that right now. Perhaps later when she was asleep.

"You had something there," he said innocently and glanced at a servant girl who was shaking with fear.

"My dinner?" he stated, keeping his tone of voice light, but the look in his eyes was nothing but terrifying.

"Y-yes, my lord, fo-forgive me," the girl stuttered.

Pathetic. Ramsay rolled his eyes and concentrated on Briseis. She was calmly eating her dinner while he sat beside her; covered with the blood of a man he had just tortured and killed. For some reason the situation really amused him. There was something very enjoyable about her ignorance and helplessness.

She was completely dependent on other people and he had made sure that she relied especially to him. He took her riding, escorted her when she wanted to take a walk in the woods, read to her, what ever she needed. And yes, he often amused himself by sneaking into her chambers when she slept or took a bath.

He enjoyed watching her without her knowing that he was there. Ever since they had been children, he had considered her as his own little doll. She sure was a pretty little doll and he was aware that other men had noticed that as well. The man he had killed tonight wasn't the first man who had died for looking at her the wrong way. She was his, only his, and he had no intention letting anyone take her from him.


	2. Chapter 2

**I decided to write a second part. Would you like to read more of this?**

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 **Part 2**

Myranda looked at Ramsay walking in the woods, arm in arm with Lord Bolton's ward. The stupid little blind bitch. Myranda hated her, she always had and she had eagerly waited when Ramsay would finally get bored with the girl. Maybe they wouldn't be able to hunt her like so many other girls, but Myranda had no doubt that Ramsay would find some way to torment her without Lord Bolton noticing.

Myranda truly hoped that Ramsay would let her participate. She had never understood what he saw in the pathetic little cunt in the first place. Myranda was the perfect woman for him, she always had been. When she had sometimes complained Ramsay about the blind girl, he had told her to keep her mouth shut. Usually he was nothing but excited when she expressed any kind of jealousy.

He had said that _Lady_ Briseis wasn't some servant girl; she was his father's ward. Of course Myranda knew that, but she still couldn't understand why Ramsay had to spend time with her. Why would he possibly want to spend time with her? Myranda crossed her arms and pouted her lips. Then Ramsay noticed her. She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. He said something to the blind girl and the timid maid who was walking few steps behind them. His hounds were also there, the maid was clearly afraid of them.

"Stay!" Ramsay commanded the hounds before marching straight to Myranda.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Myranda smiled and bit her bottom lip.

"I was bored and I thought we could have some fun."

Ramsay still wasn't smiling, he seemed annoyed.

"Can't you see that I'm busy?"

"Come on," Myranda purred, trying to hide her anger. "The maid can walk her back."

"I said I'm busy," Ramsay repeated coldly. "I will maybe see you tonight."

"Ramsay…"

The look in his eyes silenced her, although she was furious.

"Fine," she snapped and marched away. What did he see in that damn girl? He wasn't fucking her, she was sure of that. What could it possibly be then?

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"Thank you, that will be all," Briseis said to her maid who had just prepared her a bath and helped her undressing.

"Yes, my lady," the maid murmured. She was scared, just like usual. Briseis knew why. She knew who had just entered her chambers. She could feel his eyes on her. Calmly she climbed into the bathtub. As she sank into the warm water and allowed it to penetrate into her pores, she shivered once and then sighed in content. She didn't show in any way that she would have known he was there. Of course she knew.

She was blind, but she wasn't stupid and her other senses were working just fine. She knew much more than anyone thought. She knew what kind of a man Ramsay was and what he did. She knew why the servants were so afraid of him. Yet for some strange reason, she wasn't afraid of him. Obviously she should be, but she wasn't.

There had been something strange between them ever since they had been children. Even back then there had been nothing kind or gentle about him, but he had always looked after her. He had been her eyes when she had needed them. Usually he smelled like blood and smoke. She had never said that out loud. He had once said to her that she smelled like winter. Like snow and pine trees.

Despite of who he was, he had never even tried to touch her inappropriately. Sometimes he touched her hair or kissed her cheek, but even then his touch was somewhat careful. Right now he was staring at her as she hummed and started slowly to wash herself with a sponge. Carefully she rubbed her arms, her shoulders, her chest, her breasts, her stomach and finally her legs.

He didn't make a sound, but she heard him breathing faster as she lifted her leg up and ran the sponge slowly up and down her thigh. It felt pleasant and she knew that he liked to watch her washing this part of her. The thought of him watching her didn't feel unpleasant. Of course she would have never said that out loud, she was supposed to be a chaste lady. Thankfully she didn't have to say it out loud since she didn't know that he was here. She was just a stupid blind girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

"I am making you Acting Lord of the Dreadfort," Lord Bolton stated. "You will be in charge until I return."

Ramsay was more than pleased; he smiled and bowed at his father.

"Thank you, father, I won't disappoint you."

Lord Bolton responded with a brief nod and turned his eyes back to the letter he had received from House Stark. Lord Eddard Stark had been imprisoned by King Joffrey and Robb Stark wanted all their vassals to join him as they would march south to fight House Lannister. Meanwhile Ramsay would rule the Dreadfort. This was his chance to prove himself to his father.

"You will also be Lady Briseis' guardian until I return," Lord Bolton continued. "You are responsible for her safety."

Ramsay's lips curved into a smile. Briseis' guardian… Now that was a pleasant thought. His mind was immediately full of other pleasant thoughts that made his body react the same way it reacted every time he saw her naked. Sometimes she didn't even have to be naked; her closeness was enough to arouse him.

Few nights ago when he had watched her bathing, he had been so turned on that it had been painful. In that moment he would have given anything if he could have claimed her. All he had wanted was to throw her on the bed and make her his. Leave his mark on her soft skin, taste every part of her, hear her moaning and make her cry out his name. Over and over again. Instead he had fucked Myranda, pretending that she was Briseis. That wasn't enough, not anymore. He wanted what should be his. He wanted his little doll.

"Of course, father. I will take good care of Lady Briseis," Ramsay replied.

"It is my responsibility to make sure that she stays untouched until she is wed." Lord Bolton paused and glanced at Ramsay. "I trust that you can make that clear to the men."

"Of course. No one would dare to touch her, they know better."

"Good. I must say that she has become a very beautiful young lady. Just like her mother."

"Yes, father, she is lovely," Ramsay replied.

Lord Bolton glanced at him.

"Tell me, what do you think of her?"

Ramsay looked at his father calmly.

"I have known her ever since she was a child and as I said, she is lovely. Surely she will be a good wife."

Lord Bolton smiled.

"Hmm. You have always wanted what you can't have."

Ramsay hid his anger and smiled too.

"I don't know what you mean, father."

"Of course you don't," Lord Bolton stated, a hint of amusement clear in his voice. "As long as you keep in mind that she is not one of your playthings."

No, she wasn't a plaything, she was more than that. But his father was wrong. She did belong to Ramsay and he would find a way to make her his.

"I am well aware of that. She will be safe under my care, I give you my word."


End file.
